


how did you end up with all of me?

by MayWilder



Series: the gift of you [6]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Harley is a disaster, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, but he's trying his best, friends are chosen family, teenagers in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 09:13:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19016890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayWilder/pseuds/MayWilder
Summary: “What the hell?” Peter snaps. “I don’t even know where to begin. You say you’re not going to come see me for my birthday, which we’ve been talking about literally since the day you came back here, two days before it! You drop that on me, and then lie about not being able to finish your homework when we both know you probably wrote it the second you got the assignment!”(Peter is not wrong.)“You also haven’t been answering my calls. You’re supposed to be in New York right now, eating chicken nuggets and fucking me like we’re going to die tomorrow.”God, if that image isn’t everything Harley wants.“So I ask again: What the hell?”***Or, Harley and Peter need to adjust.





	how did you end up with all of me?

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after "simply, always, more of you"  
> Thank you all so much for your love and support! I appreciate you more than you know. I just started anti-depressants, and they've made me feel incredibly foggy. I cannot read or write very well (and editing takes hours) so there will be no new content for a bit while I adjust to the medication. I'm hoping to write more family-centered fics soon though! <3 love you all

Harley holds his carry-on bag over his shoulder, chewing his gum so quickly he bites the inside of his cheek. The people around him aren’t moving fast enough, and he’s clearly too far back in the plane. He needs to be off. On the other side of the gate is Peter. It’s only been three weeks, but its been too long.

“Sorry, dear,” a woman in front of him says. She can obviously read his impatience. “Got a girlfriend you need to see for Christmas?”

He smirks. “Boyfriend.”

“Oh?” the woman smiles wider. “Been a long time?”

“Three weeks.”

“Young love,” the guy behind Harley sighs dramatically. “Oh, to be so desperate for it again.”

"While we're waiting, might as well tell us about this boy you're dying to see," the woman nudges Harley's bag. "Come on, boy, entertain an old lady with tales of youth."

Harley grins.

* * *

Harley and Peter spend a summer falling in love before they have to separate for the school year with Peter in New York, Harley in Rose Hill.

Things mostly suck.

Harley has always been lonely in Rose Hill. He’s never had actual friends and has grown up too busy to try. Between taking care of Abby and finding people who will pay a kid for mechanical work, while also trying to stay ahead in school, there simply isn’t time to try and make people comfortable with his identity so that he can form real, close relationships.

But then, _New York_. A city of life, a place of openness, where Harley has people who genuinely like him. Even now, he can look at his texts and see conversations with people who were originally Peter’s friends, but ended up liking him as is own person. He has real relationships with them.

Except they’re all in New York, and he’s in Rose Hill, alone and suffocating.

And Peter?

God, _Peter_.

Harley aches for his boyfriend.

Yes, they talk. There’s a steady stream of texts that flow through their phones throughout the day, never about anything important, and yet always necessary. After spending so much time attached at the hip, there’s a weird adjustment period of Harley not having to look for Peter’s reaction or ask him to pass a tool in the workshop. He feels like he’s learning to walk with a lame foot. Still there, but not quite right.

“I miss you,” Peter whispers into the phone the first weekend they’re separated. “A lot. So you know, that sucks.”

“I miss you too,” Harley says softly. “But you’re not letting it distract you, right?”

“Nah,” Peter answers. “Still smarter than Flash. Still patrolling.”

“Being safe?”

“Never.”

Harley snorts. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah.” Harley closes his eyes and lets the feeling wash over him. “God, Peter. So much.”

“I love you.” There’s a text tone then, and Peter mumbles a curse. “Sorry, hold on.”

“You okay?”

“Just muting my phone. Avengers are making fun of me because I came to the compound and now I’m in my room.”

“You should go join them.”

“I’d rather talk to you.”

Harley doesn’t admit how good that feels.

**)-(**

Harley gets a job. He walks into the only garage in town and asks for work.

“I’ll work for free,” he says plainly to Phil, the owner. “And I’m damn good underneath the hood of a car.”

“Why you need a job so bad?” Phil asks. He’s fifty years old and greasy, and his gruff voice sounds like every idiot southerner in every movie. He’s also happens to be one of the nicest people in town. Even people who hate everyone love _good ol’, Jesus-lovin’ Phil._ “You ain’t got any friends you'd rather be with?”

“I’m the town queer, Phil. No, I don’t have friends.”

Harley thinks he may have just made a mistake; Phil’s garage is a good Christian establishment, and its possible he didn’t know, that Harley could have just skated by without acknowledging his sexuality. But then Phil barks out a laugh. “Fair enough, kid. We’ll do a trial run today. I know you’re talented, there’s been enough proof of that, so we’ll see how well you take orders. If you think you can do it, I’ll get you here after school a couple days a week and every weekend.”

And so, Harley works with Christian Phil, who doesn’t have anything to teach him about cars, but plenty to say about everything else. Harley mostly listens while Phil talks about family, about his marriage, about war and PTSD, a little bit about his faith, and a lot about the right way to load the dishwasher.

Tupperware is never allowed on the bottom rock. Who could have known?

Work helps the time pass. Harley enjoys fixing things every evening, even when it sometimes means he’s up all night working on college applications and essays to qualify for scholarships. There are nights when Harley props his phone against the wall on his desk and he and Peter do work together. There’s a lot of silence, only broken by the sound of pencil scratching against paper.

“You guys are, like, fused together,” Abby says over dinner. “Like, its weird.”

“We’re not,” Harley argues.

His phone dings with a text.

“Doesn’t he have a life outside of you?” Abby frowns.

“What is your point, Abby?”

“I’m just saying, you can…you know, cling.” Abby shrugs. “We both do it, and..."

"And _what_ , Abby?"

Abby purses her lips. “I like Peter. You love him. Just…don’t be one of those guys who takes over his boyfriend’s life. That doesn’t breed healthy relationships.”

Harley leaves dinner early.

**)-(**

“So, you’ll be here tomorrow night, right?” Peter asks. He’s on patrol, but it’s a slow night, so he’s talking from the suit. “God, I’m excited. I already told MJ and Ned that I’m going AWOL. Tony and Pepper have some fancy dinner then, so we can just hole up in my room and say fuck it to everybody else.”

“Okay.”

“And I think I’m going to buy about six hundred chicken nuggets so we can sit on the kitchen floor and eat a bunch of chicken nuggets. All night.”

“Okay.”

“Babe?” Peter’s voice stutters. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Harley swallows. “I just—um, do you think I should come?”

Peter doesn’t say anything.

“I mean, it was so hard when you left last time,” Harley keeps going. “And maybe it’s just better if we don’t go through that again.”

“S-So what, we’re just not going to see each other again?” Peter’s voice sounds tight. “Until graduation? What about college?”

“I don’t know, baby—

“Nope, don’t pull that shit. What is happening?”

“Nothing. Look, I’ve got an essay on the relevance of calculus to the modern world. It’s gonna take me awhile so I should go ahead and write it.”

“You could write that essay in your sleep!”

“I love you, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He throws the phone on the bed and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

_I already told MJ and Ned that I’m going AWOL._

_Tony and Pepper have some fancy dinner then, so we can just hole up in my room and say fuck it to everybody else._

_Don’t be one of those guys who takes over his boyfriend’s life._

Harley sits at his desk, dropping his head into his arms. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

 _Space_ , he thinks lightly. _Space is good, right?_

**)-(**

The next night, Harley’s woken up by a scream.

He jerks out of bed, fumbling for the repulsor gun Tony had given him a few birthdays ago. He runs from his room and towards Abby’s, where the scream came from.

“What happened?” he asks sleepily. Abby is standing at the window, eyes wide.

“Something just crash landed outside!” Abby cries. She points out the window. “A light fell out of the sky.”

Harley’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

“Shit? Do you know what it is?”

“I think I know _who_ it is.”

Harley jerks the window open and climbs out into the yard, despite Abby yelling at him. An Iron Man suit straightens out, a little banged up. Before Harley can say anything, it opens up, not to reveal Tony smugly walking out, but Peter falling on his knees.

“Shit! No control. _Take the suit_ , Dad said, _you could even nap, it definitely won’t short out, I’m Tony Stark, I’m more advanced than that._ More advanced, my ass.”

Peter stands, brushing dirt off of his pajama pants. He looks so painfully pretty in moonlight, like something off an operatic stage, where his skin is pale and kind of glowing, and all of his features look softer. Sweeter. His hair is a little messy, product still in it but faded enough that strands fall in his eyes. Harley wishes he was an artist so he could capture something about this moment.

Then Peter locks eyes on him, and he realizes his boyfriend is _furious_.

“Peter,” Harley says slowly.

“What the hell?” Peter snaps. “I don’t even know where to begin. You say you’re not going to come see me for my birthday, which we’ve been talking about literally since the day you came back here, two days before it! You drop that on me, and then lie about not being able to finish your homework when we both know you probably wrote it the second you got the assignment!”

(Peter is not wrong.)

“You also haven’t been answering my calls. You’re supposed to be in New York right now, eating chicken nuggets and fucking me like we’re going to die tomorrow.”

God, if that image isn’t everything Harley wants.

“So I ask again: _What the hell?_ ”

“I was trying to give you space, Peter, we’re practically… _glued_ at the hip. You have a life outside of me.”

“I don’t want a life outside of you!”

“Don’t say that, _please_ don’t say that.”

“I _cannot believe_ you. You put yourself in harm’s way because someone pointed a gun at my head. You told me you loved me fifteen minutes after we started dating. And-and when I told you that I loved you, and we—

Harley remembers, only weeks ago, laying beneath Peter and promising trust, love, _I want this, Peter, please-_

“Well," Peter swallows, pink cheeks clear. "Well, it was different than the other times.”

Peter’s voice cracks at the end and Harley moves to step forward, only to realize his feet are completely numb. He hits his knees in an undignified manner. Peter helps him to his feet, mumbling in annoyance about a barefoot idiot. He proceeds to scoop Harley up in his arms and carry him to Abby’s bedroom window. They slide through gracefully, Peter not giving any attention to the teenage girl in the room.

“I don’t understand what changed. You wanted me, _you said you loved me_ , and now you want space.”

“I don’t _want_ space, but I wanted to _give_ you space.”

“I didn’t ask for it!”

“I know, but when I was talking to Abby, I got in my head and I didn’t want to be someone who took over your life!”

“First of all, Abby is not me, she doesn’t know shit about our relationship. Second, you don’t get to make those choices for me. I decide who I love, who I want to spend my time with. Don’t want to take over my life? Then _don’t_ try and make my _fucking decisions_ for me.”

Peter turns to leave. Harley reaches for his arm. “So, did you just come here to yell at me? I don’t get to say anything else?”

“I’m sorry, did I upset you by deciding to do something without consulting you?”

“Well, now that’s a stretch—

“I’m walking away to calm down so I can talk to you.”

“Then why did you come in the middle of the night?”

“Because I didn’t know how long I had! You weren’t coming to see me, and it _hurt_ , and I needed to come tell you that you couldn’t leave me like that. But then, I was just sitting there as the suit flew me here, and I got angrier and angrier, and now I can’t think rationally! _Like always when I’m around you!_ ”

He starts walking away, but turns around again. When he speaks, his voice is low and it shoots through Harley’s chest. “I love you, Harley, no matter how mad I am right now.”

“I love you.” Harley replies, trying so hard not to cry.

Peter walks into Harley’s room and shuts the door. Harley turns and looks at his sister, who is cringing. “Is this my fault, Harls?”

“No,” Harley groans, head falling into his hands. “Not even a little bit.”

**)-(**

When Harley wakes up the next morning, his back hurts from the couch. Peter still has his bedroom door closed, and Harley guesses he’ll just go to work until Peter is ready to talk.

“You’re here,” Phil says in surprise when he sees him. “Thought you wanted the weekend off to go out of town?”

“Didn’t work out.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

The day passes by painfully slow. Abby brings him lunch and says that Peter is still locked in Harley’s room. He doesn’t answer, only takes the sandwich and sends her back home. He goes back to work. Its almost impossible to ignore the looks from Phil, who eventually corners him as they’re getting ready to leave.

“Why’re you so mopey all the time, kid?” he asks. “Aside from the crushing loneliness of your big brain in a small town?”

“You don’t want to hear about it,” Harley mutters. “I’m fine. Just trying to make it through senior year.”

“Talk to me, boy,” Phil grumps. “What’s got you feelin’ down?”

Harley hesitates, then ducks his head to make sure he can’t see Phil’s reaction when he says, “I met a guy in New York and I fell in love.”

“I see,” Phil replies. “And he doesn’t love you back?”

“What? No, he’s my boyfriend.”

“So why’re you all depressed?”

“He’s mad at me.”

“What did you do?”

“I…sort of didn’t come see him for his birthday. I wanted to give him space.”

“Why?”

“Because I love him and he’s seven hundred miles away?”

“You know, I kept up a healthy marriage through two wars.” Phil pokes Harley’s cheek. “You sayin’ you can’t deal with basic access to him, with cell phones and facetimes and such?”

“I mean, I can,” Harley huffs. “It’s just…Peter has a life, okay? A busy one. He’s always with people or at work or school. He shouldn’t have to deal with me pining around, waiting for the next moment I get to see him.”

Phil grabs Harley’s shoulder, and Harley thinks, _This is it. He can’t deal with a gay kid’s relationship problems. It’s too much._

“Son, relationships are work. Relationships are about sacrifice and patience and priority. Should he be your entire world? No.”

“You say that because you believe God should be our priority.”

“That’s only partly true. Nobody should look at another human being like they’re perfect, or idolize them in anyway, because they’re going to fuck up at some point, and the fall out of that is worse when you don’t think it can happen. This boy cannot be your entire life, its just not healthy.”

Harley wants to roll his eyes.

“But like I said, relationships are about prioritizing the people you love. There ain’t nothing wrong with this boy taking time out of his busy schedule to focus on you. You’re his boyfriend, you’re more important than other people to him. My wife is my number one human being. My best friend, my go-to. I’d choose her over any of you fools in a heartbeat. That isn’t a bad thing. It’s all about balance, kid.”

“I guess.”

“Also, its not your choice how he spends his time. If he wants to spend it on you, enjoy it. Share the moments you get.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” he groans. When he looks up, Phil is smiling sympathetically at him. “Can you get me excused from school for a couple days next week?”

“I’m not your guardian.”

“Nope, but you’re married to the principal.”

Phil rolls his eyes. “Go on, son. Get your boy.”

As Harley jogs out of the garage, he catches a stray thought and turns. “Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you…why do you care so much about me? You know I’m gay. This place isn’t too fond of that, and everyone here likes to say your God isn’t.”

Phil sighs. He crosses his arms, somehow looking old and impossibly strong. Harley spares a moment to think of old European fortresses. “Way I see it, Jesus calls us to love everybody, unconditionally. If you being gay made me not love you…well, that seems pretty conditional to me.”

“Love me?” Harley feels his chest constrict.

“Yeah, kid. I love you.”

Harley doesn’t want to cry, of course, but the tears come unbidden. They’re alone in the garage, he’s so goddamn tired of this town and of worrying about Peter loving him or leaving him, of trying to hold back who he is and how he loves…that he just starts crying. Phil, in all his grease stains and Santa-like spirit, wraps his arms around Harley and lets him cry.

“I got you, son,” Phil murmurs. “Its okay. I got you.”

**)-(**

When Harley gets home, he walks straight into his bedroom. Peter is sitting on the bed, on the phone with his legs crossed. “Yeah, Mom, I know. Tell the school I have the flu or something—

“Peter.”

“Shit, I gotta go. Love you, bye.” He tosses his phone to the side, looking nervous. His hands fidget. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey.” Harley shuts the door. “Abby said you’ve been hiding in here all day.”

“Yeah.” Peter scratches his neck. “I’m not totally proud of how I showed up here with the goal of begging you to not break up with me, but ended up just yelling at you. I’m embarrassed by both action and motive.”

“Break up with you?” Harley comes to kneel by the bed. “Darlin’, why would you think that?”

“Because you didn’t want to come see me, you lied to me, you stopped talking to me—

“No, no, I was trying not to crowd you, I know I’m intense and I have been for months, and I didn’t want to scare you off!”

“You won’t scare me, Harley, I love you. I’m _literally_ obsessed with you. I have been for a long time.”

“A few months, yeah, but…”

“No, babe, listen to me. I have wanted you from the moment I met you.” Peter looks down, cradling Harley’s face. The touch sets Harley's nerves alight. “You pulled me out of the closet, and I have never felt anything like I feel for you. I’ve never wanted anyone so much. I am completely overwhelmed by you, but its not because you are too intense or aggressive. Its because of me.”

Harley lets his head fall to Peter’s chest, hands curling into his thighs. “I’m sorry for getting in my head and getting weird, and for trying to make your decisions for you.”

“I’m sorry for showing up in the middle of the night, that was so dramatic.”

“It was a very Tony move, but I loved it. I love you.”

“I don’t want you to pull back. _Please don’t._ Remember when you told me not to hold back? You don’t hold back either. Ever.”

“Okay.”

“I love you, so much.”

Harley lifts his head. Peter’s eyes are wide, sincere and so fucking pretty. He has to kiss him, press close and push onto the bed. They both moan at the contact, the feeling of being so close seeming like the most important thing after weeks of being apart. Beneath Harley, Peter rises up and uses his hands to pull their hips together.

“Jesus _fuck_ ,” Harley swears, hips stuttering. “You feel so good.”

Peter is shaking, eyes a little glazed. “This is about to be embarrassing.”

“No,” Harley promises. He tugs at the band of Peter's sweatpants and slides in, marveling at how Peter cries out and archs his back “Don’t hold back, don’t be embarrassed, okay? I love you.”

“I love _you_."

And nothing else really matters.

**)-(**

The next month is difficult.

Not bad.

Just difficult.

After spending the day in Harley’s room, they fly back to New York for a couple days so they can celebrate Peter’s birthday the way he wants. Those two days are spent locked inside Peter’s bedroom. They talk, eat anything Harley will make, play video games, read, and fuck as much as they’re physically capable. Peter cries when they say goodbye.

Harley cries for an entire day after.

They talk as often as they can. Whether its with phones propped up on schoolbooks or pillows, they share an almost constant stream of communication. As time passes, its less about actual conversation and more about just being together. One night, Harley does his advanced calculus, and Peter carries his phone around the penthouse, eating dinner and doing homework before patrolling.

Some nights, Harley whispers into the phone everything he’s going to do to Peter the next time he sees them and they come undone from each other’s words.

Some nights, Peter rubs his eyes and says, “I just love you. I wish you were here.”

Some nights, Harley lays Peter on the pillow beside him and closes his eyes, waiting for the steady breath that means he’s asleep.

Some nights they laugh.

Some nights Peter doesn’t answer the phone because he’s fighting crime or lying in a hospital bed.

(Those are the worst nights.)

“I’m still mildly concerned about your attachment issues,” Tony says one evening when he walks into Peter’s room and sees them having a homework party. “This can’t be healthy.”

Harley sees Peter’s mouth set in a firm line. “I don’t care.”

Tony doesn’t bring it up again.

They haven’t seen each other since Peter’s birthday, and as Christmas comes closer, it doesn’t look like they will again until the two week break (that will be spent in New York). Peter is swamped with missions, with homework, and with Decathlon. He keeps up a social life.

Harley waits. Harley works. Harley wants.

And then Thanksgiving comes.

**)-(**

Harley is at the grocery store, shopping for Thanksgiving, when his phone rings. He nearly drops the turkey when he realizes that its Peter, who hasn’t been able to talk for about two days.

“Hey baby,” Harley dumps the turkey into the cart. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Peter says lightly. “What are you doing right now?”

“Grocery shopping,” he answers. “Phil gave me money and a grocery list from Anna.”

“Don’t they have kids?”

“Nope. Anna can’t have kids, and she never really wanted them anyway. Until Abby and I, apparently.”

“Nice, well—Ned, shut up! I know! Babe, I’ve got to go, can I call you back in like ten minutes?”

Harley ignores the twinge of disappointment. “Yeah, of course. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Harley looks at his phone sadly before clearing his throat. “Bekah, what’s the best way to get over crushing loneliness?"

“My research concludes that it might help if you get off your ass and try to make real friends.”

“Damn, girl. That’s cold.”

“I am a computer, and thus incapable of feeling. Cold is an accurate word.”

Harley loves his AI.

He spends the next ten minutes getting ingredients for stuffing and green bean casserole. Right as he reaches for the French fried onions, he hears a commotion from the aisle over.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to put that away—

“No thank you, sir, I don’t think I will. Also, I am not a ma’am. Do not address me as such.”

Harley frowns, very confused because that sounds like... _Betty_. He pushes his cart around the bend and into the next aisle. What he sees nearly makes his heart burst.

Betty is standing in front of a manager, arms crossed while grasping a large non-binary flag. MJ stands next to her, a trans flag hanging off her shoulders like a cape. Peter is holding his bi flag with a frustrated look at the manager, and Ned is taking pictures and being perfectly supportive as always.

“Peter?” Harley gapes. “What are y’all doing here?”

His friends turn and beam. Peter steps forward. He looks _so_ good. “We came to spend Thanksgiving break with you.”

“And to make sure you aren’t the only openly queer person here,” Betty smiles.

MJ whoops. “Pride has come to Rose Hill, bitches!”

Harley has been out for years, feeling like a freak in a town that wants him to hide. This, these people, standing here and putting themselves on display to make Harley feel more comfortable, are…incredible. He blinks away his tears, refusing to be a mess of emotions in the middle of the goddamn Piggly Wiggly.

“Excuse me,” the manager groans. “Please, I’m going to have to ask you to put your…flags away, or leave.”

MJ starts to speak, but Harley cuts her off. “I’m about to pay and leave, Terry, calm down.”

Terry huffs and turns on his heels.

“Cool,” Harley says. “Now that that’s settled…there’s someone y’all need to meet.”

**)-(**

The five of them walk to Phil’s garage, Harley at the lead and feeling a slight nervousness. He motions to his friends to stop at the garage door. “Look, I actually respect Phil. He’s always good to me, and he knows I’m gay, but I’m going to give him a little warning because this is, like, a lot. Can you wait a minute?”

“Of course.” Peter kisses him briefly.

Harley rounds the corner. Phil is closing up shop, wiping off his hands and yelling at another employee to put the remaining tool box away. When he sees Harley, he grins. “Hey, son. You got everything on Anna’s list?”

“Yes sir,” he replies. “I was just going to go drop it off at the house and help Anna get started.”

“Good.” Phil squints his eyes. “What’s going on with you, Harley?”

“Um, my friends sort of surprised me at the store,” Harley says slowly. “Peter and a couple others from New York. They’re outside, and I wanted to know if you’d like to meet them.”

Phil tilts his head.

“If that’s not okay, I understand, you’ve been—

“Harley.” Phil cuts him off gently. “What do I need to know before they come in? So I don’t say anything in ignorance?”

God, what did Harley ever do to deserve this man in his life?

“Betty is non-binary,” Harley says carefully. “Don’t call her ma’am. MJ _likes_ to be called ma’am. Ned and Betty are dating. Peter is bisexual, so he likes boys and girls. And…yeah. That’s it, I think.”

Phil nods. “Bring ‘em in. it’s cold out there.”

When his friends walk through the door, Peter is the first to hold out a hand to Phil. “Hello. I’ve heard a lot about you from Harley.”

“You too,” Phil grins, shaking his hand. “Harley never shuts up about how cute you are.”

Peter colors. Phil holds his hand to MJ next, who nods. “Name's Michelle. Friends call me MJ. No offense, I don’t know you yet, so you can call me Michelle.”

Phil laughs his Santa-laugh. “Yes ma’am. And you must be Betty. Nice to meet you, youngin’.”

Ned, of course, salutes. “It’s an honor, sir.”

“Same to you, my boy.” Phil salutes back. “All y’all hanging around for Thanksgiving?”

“We came to see Harley,” Peter answers. “We don’t want to intrude—

“Nonsense, the wife will love to have a full house. We’ll certainly have enough food tomorrow. For tonight, why don’t y'all come over for dinner? We’ll order pizza and Anna can tell you plenty of embarrassing stories from when she used to teach Harley.”

**)-(**

Everyone declares that Phil and Anna are angels, marveling at how they’re known for their Christianity and yet invited their little group into their home with open arms.

“I wish my parents were like them,” MJ says softly when they’re on the ride home. Her voice is thick. “My mom still tries to call me Marshall. And Anna, when we left, she just...she said she loved me.”

Harley frowns, but watches as Ned reaches over and takes Michelle’s hand. “I’m sorry MJ. We know who you are, though. We love you.”

“You don’t suck,” MJ replies with a lazy sniffle.

“Phil and Anna are great,” Betty agrees. They reach over the seat to put a hand on Harley’s shoulder. “It’s so great that you found them, Harls. I’m happy for you.”

“Honestly? Me too,” he replies. “And thank you guys for being open to coming here, and being yourselves, and walking into a situation where you didn’t know how people would react. I-I love you guys. A lot.”

“We love you too,” Ned offers. He puts his hand on top of Betty’s to touch Harley. “You’re family, dude. We got your back.”

That night, after their friends are set up in the living room, Peter and Harley fall into bed. The latter kisses his boyfriend like he’s wanted to since the moment he saw everyone in the store. “I know it was your idea.”

“Maybe.” Peter reaches for Harley’s sweater. “But it wasn’t like it was entirely selfless. I wanted to see you, and I didn’t feel like waiting until Christmas.”

“Thank you, anyways.” Harley rolls Peter beneath him, hands creeping under his shirt as they kiss again. “Have I mentioned that I’m completely in love with you?”

“Once or twice, but you can say it again.”

He pulls back, making sure he looks Peter in the eyes. “I'm completely in love you.”

Peter’s face melts from smug to sappy in two seconds.

* * *

“I hope for your sake it doesn’t wear off,” the man, now known as Abraham, says morosely while they ride down the escalator. The past thirty minutes of getting off the plane has been spent discussing Peter.

Dorothy nods quickly. “Yes, me too, darling. Good luck with your boyfriend, and don’t lose the spark!”

Harley is about to thank them both for the advice they’ve been giving when he feels a charge in the air. He doesn’t need to have a sixth sense to know that Peter is here, and their eyes meet almost instantly.

He looks so good, Harley bemoans internally. Peter is the exact same that he always is; white sweater over green button down, tight jeans that do amazing things for his body, and hair slicked back neatly. His face breaks out into a smile when he sees Harley, one so breathtaking that even Abraham gasps at the sight.

“That him, kid?”

“Yeah,” Harley breathes. “It is.”

Peter starts running towards the base of the escalator, while Harley makes excuses and tries to push past people. Eventually, he makes it to last few steps and leaps just in time for Peter to catch him in a firm hug. Harley wraps around him, not caring if he looks like a koala because Peter is here, holding him, smelling like his shampoo and feeling so impossibly sturdy.

“Fuck,” Peter whispers in his neck, burying close. “Damn it, Harley, I missed you.”

“Me too, darlin’,” Harley replies before cupping his boyfriends face. They share a hard kiss, one that deepens instantly and has Harley trying to press closer, needing to be closer. “Missed you so goddamned much. I love you.”

“I love you,” Peter says back. They kiss again, bordering on filthy, but completely uncaring. Its electric and hot and there is nobody else in the world because _Peter, Peter, Peter._

They pull apart slowly, Harley’s legs dropping and letting him ease down. There are people around them, phones out and watching as Peter Stark welcomes his boyfriend home.

“It’s like Love, Actually,” one woman sniffles.

“We’re going to be trending,” Peter giggles, tucking his face in Harley’s neck.

The action makes him warm all over, unable to stop his smiling. “Come on. I wanna go home.”

Peter carries Harley’s suitcase, and leads them outside. Happy is leaning against the car, bundled up in a sweater and looking ever so…unhappy.

“Took you long enough,” he grumps. “Get in the car, I’ll load the suitcase.”

Harley’s eyebrows raise. Happy might as well have held a banner up with the words “Welcome Back Harley, We Missed You!” on the it. Peter, still smiling and rosy cheeked, tugs him into the car. They tumble into the backseat. Peter is in Harley’s lap before he can process anything else, hands in Harley’s hair and tugging.

“I’m so obsessed with you,” Peter whispers.

 _You own me,_ Harley thinks as he tries to imprint his hands on Peter’s ass.

The boy on top of him pulls back. He’s panting slightly, holding Harley’s face in his hands. “W-What? Do you mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“You just said I own you.” Peter is grinning. “Is that true?”

“I…” Harley stammers for a second. Peter looks so incredibly delighted. “Yeah, I did. You own me, Peter.”

Peter's smile is so blinding that Harley stops breathing for a moment. "No, Harls. We belong to each other."

**Author's Note:**

> i'm maywildflowers on tumblr. hit me up for a trashcan of my faves


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